by Tim Paulson
“Yes, I see it...”
“The spell I've just cast on you while your eyes have been closed makes that hand one eighth as large as it was.. but only for a short time. Do you understand?”
Celia opened her eyes. Vex was still where he'd been before, standing on a box on the building's roof. Did she feel any different? Not really. She felt the same.
“First, pick me up,” he said.
Celia did... or she tried to but her arm missed, completely. It felt so light!
“Wow! This is... I don't even know what to say.”
“Your arms weigh less too, the rest of you as well. Around as much as an ikul essuru.”
“A what?”
“A medium-size bird... that you eat... never mind.”
She reached out again, more slowly this time, and managed to snag Vex. She stuffed him back in her shirt. It made her smile every time she did it. If he didn't get the point after such repeated gratuitous exposure to her chest, she didn't know what would.
The wind rose up again but this time it nearly blew her over. She had to use both hands to grab on to the nearest box, lest she be blown right off the roof. A thrill of fear went through her giving her tingles all over her body. Celia loved that feeling.
“So... this may seem insane to you but-”
“I'm to jump off the building?”
“Eh... Yes. Exactly.”
You didn't have to tell Celia twice. She felt like she'd been made for this moment. How many trees had she fallen from as a child? How many scoldings had she received from the matron of the orphanage? Two dozen? A hundred? As wrong as it was, she literally couldn't wait to see what it felt like to jump from the corner of this building.
Getting up showed her it wouldn't be as easy as she thought, however. Her legs felt incredibly powerful. She had to move very slowly, then she'd get to the edge and launch herself.
“You'll have to be careful-” Vex started to say.
“I've got it,” she replied as she maneuvered herself slowly, keeping her hands latched to the edge of the building. Just a little bit closer. She would wait for the next gust of wind and then after it passed, she'd go.
As she squatted in the corner of the building, looking across the significant distance, far longer than any human could ever jump, she found a seed of doubt creeping into the back of her mind. It was... what? Thirty feet to the ground? Perhaps more. If not a deadly fall, then surely crippling. Could Vex heal her? She wasn't sure, that was more of a Harald thing.
No, no. It would be fine. Vex would not ask her to do it, if it was not possible.
She hoped.
“I can feel your heart rate rising.”
“I'm fine,” she said.
The wind rose up again and she ducked low against the lip of the building, letting it go over her. Then, when it died, she took a deep breath, bent as low as she could, and...
She jumped.
Her feet left the tiles of the roof with a sound remarkably similar to the leap of a large continental squirrel. She went up and out faster than she'd ever imagined, her feet and the folds of her dress trailing behind her like the streamers on a kite. It was glorious and terrifying all at once and she loved it.
Until the wind picked back up, or perhaps she'd shot up into another level of it. Either way, it grabbed hold of her and was pushing her off course.
“How are you?” Vex called, from inside her shirt.
“Fine,” she replied.
She was not fine. Not at all.
The wind was pushing her to the right and she was starting to turn as well. The oncoming roof came to a sharp point. She'd gone more than high enough to get to it, even now as she'd begun plummeting down, she was sure she had the height and distance. No, the problem was that she might miss entirely.
Celia started swinging her arms, trying to swim to the side, but it wasn't working. If anything it was making her spin faster, if not pushing her even farther off course.
“I'm sorry!” she said.
Would he hate her if she died here? She'd just been trying to get them to the second roof. She wanted to show him she was worth keeping around but so far it wasn't working out.
As her descent began to gain speed, she realized she wasn't coming down as fast as she expected, she kept drifting and turning. She was almost backward now, making it impossible to see where she was headed.
Another gust at the last moment, from the opposite direction... It pushed her back but would it be enough?
Then she hit the roof.
There was an incredible wet splat sound and her vision went dark.
Celia tried to speak but she couldn't. Her eyes couldn't see, nor her ears hear, yet for some reason, her tongue was still working just fine. It had the worst gritty flavor, like she was licking the snow from each shingle of the roof one by one.
Then, suddenly, Celia gasped. Breath returned. Her eyes opened. She heard the wind.
“What just happened?” she asked, looking around.
They were indeed on the other roof but, right next to the edge actually her body felt... odd.
“I didn't want to worry you,” Vex said, from underneath her garments. “But I cast another small spell. It makes you turn into a gelatinous liquid if you get hit too hard. Doesn't last for long.
“I was liquid?” she said, looking down at her feet, one of which was currently twisting back into position, or perhaps oozing was a better word. Seeing it happen made her stomach seize up. “You're right. It was better I didn't know.”
“I wouldn't have you jump without having some plan if you landed. Unfortunately, that's it for my power... I've nothing left.”
“That's alright,” she replied, as the feeling of lightness began to wear away. Celia assumed that meant the spells were ending. “I'm an expert at sneaking into places. Though I have to admit, whoever owns this place has gone through a lot of trouble to make it look like a boring textile mill.”
“I have an idea what might be going on here,” Vex replied. “If I'm right, there are many more buildings like this one around the city. It's no wonder I didn't find them before.”
“Well don't ruin the surprise,” Celia said with a wry smile. She was trying to be funny but perhaps it was lost on him because he didn't elaborate.
She managed to slide along the snowy roof to where a vent let out whatever gasses came from within. The air was hot and moist, with the vague scent of human sweat. Not unlike what she'd expect from a workhouse.
It didn't take her long to work the vent cover off, even without tools. The pins were weak and cheaply made, something that spoke more of a facade than and actual workhouse. Though the opening was relatively small, she slipped inside with little trouble. One benefit of being so thin.
She crawled through the short vent until she reached a platform that overlooked the entire building, which was one gigantic open area. Inside it was... almost nothing. There was no machinery that she could see, no textile looms or veil powered spinning machines. All she could see was an area where carriages drove in, unloaded the people inside and then a line of shackled people, watched by armed guards, that led into two small wooden sheds. Little buildings within a building.
“What do you see? Anything?” Vex asked her.
“I do, the carriages drop off the people. None of them are dierlijt I see.”
“Naturally,” Vex replied. “Where do they go?”
“They are formed into lines that go into two small buildings,” she said.
“Can you get down to them?” Vex asked.
Celia sighed, thinking back to how low the sun had been on the horizon as she flew through the air.
“I could if we wait an hour or two. I expect they'll finish their deliveries and shut the place up for the night.”
Vex was squirming around in her shirt, trying to get out it seemed, but she had him pressed against the side of the platform.
“I want... to see...” he said, wriggling madly.
“Hey!” said a de
ep voice from behind her.
Celia closed her eyes, sighing. She hadn't checked behind herself when she moved to the platform. Stupid.
She flipped around on her back. It was a guard, an ugly one. His uniform was unmistakable however, Veil Company.
“Well hello gorgeous!” she said, raising and softening her voice. “I was hoping a big strong guy like you would come along and help with my...” She pulled on her skirt, inching it up from her boot, exposing her calf. “...problem.”
The man grimaced. “You dirty harlots are all the same. I don't know how you got in here but you'll wish you didn't I promise you.” He grabbed at her arm.
She tried to pull away but was constrained by the edge of the platform. A few too many inches one way or the other and she'd be taking a fifty-foot leap.
His second ham-fisted swipe managed to catch her left hand. Rather than a solid hold, his fingers closed around a hand that smushed like a paper bag full of warm pudding.
The guard's fat black eyebrows shot up as he uttered a surprised, “Augh!”
When he let her go the change in balance was too much for her to manage, especially after feeling her own hand squished like a soft boiled egg, and her foot missed the edge of the platform.
Celia fell, cursing the whole way down.
* * *
Buckley leaned forward in his seat, face calm, obscenely so, given the situation. The man looked like a crocodilian, smiling ever so slightly as he remained poised to snatch the deer at the water's edge. Aaron had seen this before. He'd also read the notice on Buckley's desk detailing the young woman's attempt to sell proprietary company information to a group of business leaders in Ardenton. This meeting would be her last.
“Do you know why you've been summoned here, Miss...”
“Irene Cross,” the girl replied. “Technician second class.”
“Yes, Miss Cross. Are you-”
“No sir,” she snapped.
Aaron, from his position on the side of the room, could see the beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Her eyes darted to him. She knew he would be called upon to terminate her, did she have some plan? He couldn't tell. What he did know is that this was a perfect time for the test.
He'd been thinking non-stop on his predicament. When he summoned strong feelings, the rules, or whatever it was that bound him, would blank his mind, emptying him of the emotion. When that happened he did tend to pause, for maybe as much as a second. That left the possibility that he could do so at just the right moment, giving her time to run.
If she was lucky, perhaps if she was smart enough to have a plan, she could get to the second stairwell down. That one was too small for him to enter. He'd be forced to go in the opposite direction and take the other larger stair. That way she could make it down before him and exit the building unharmed.
It would cost him. He'd noticed that each time he suffered through one of the mind blanks, it dulled his feelings somewhat. That was why he'd stopped the testing to think it through. There had to be a way. That was something they'd taught at the academy, actually, he remembered Professor Van Bosch saying this exact thing: engineering was a science of solutions. Every problem had an answer, the only question was whether the technician had the fortitude to keep at it.
Aaron would not give up. An idea would come. In the meantime, however, he would settle for less blood on his hands. Even one drop.
“Well it isn't for an award I'm afraid,” Buckley said, lacing his fingers together on the desk. “However, if you're willing to divulge your contacts in Ardenton... I could be lenient.”
“I don't know what you're talking about Mr. Buckley,” she replied.
“Oh... I think you do,” Buckley said. “And if you're reaching for a pistol in your pocket, you should know my golem can smash your skull before you could lift it. I promise you that.”
There was no reason to torture these people. None. It was foolish. It exposed him to unnecessary danger yet Buckley did it anyway. Aaron knew why. Buckley liked watching them die. He enjoyed their suffering. He was worse than the man who felt nothing, Chester Buckley felt it all and loved every moment of it, every gasp, every whimper, every anguished cry. He savored it.
Aaron felt his rage rising but he fought it. That was not the feeling he needed, it wasn't the one that worked.
The girl's eyes flicked to Aaron again.
“This is your last warning girl. Don't you understand you're nothing to me? This company employs tens of thousands of technicians. You have no special expertise. To me, you're less than nothing, an ant, whom I will crush if she does not reveal who in Ardenton she was contacting to buy my secrets.”
She remained silent.
“I feel like I'm talking to a pile of tulip bulbs here,” Buckley shrugged. “Fine... I'll find out another way. Golem, kill her...” Buckley frowned. “Make it slow. Start with her legs.”
As bidden, Aaron's body began to move but the girl, bless her soul, was ready. She jumped out of her chair, rolling to the floor as she threw a glass bead to the floor. The glass shattered, creating a plume of red smoke that exploded into the room.
“Yeaugh!” Buckley exclaimed, coughing. “Stop her!”
She'd used a chemical mixture to produce a screen of smoke, it was a good plan. It would have been anyway if Aaron's eyes couldn't see right through the smoke, but they could. He saw her easily as she rolled, as she tried to bolt for the door. He waited for the last moment, trying to give her the best chance.
Aaron couldn't help but wonder why, if she had a smoke bomb ready, she hadn't used it prior to entering Veil's Headquarters. Then he thought of how often her eyes had darted to him. Perhaps it had been more than fear. She must have heard about Buckley's golem, about how terrifying it was and become curious. How like a technician to put herself in danger just to learn, how like him. He felt for her.
His fist went out to grasp her head as she ran for the door and Aaron summoned to his mind the moment when Greta called out to him. The sound of her voice, beaten, broken, begging him. The overwhelming feeling of sadness at being unable to go to her, to help her. So much regret, so much...
Aaron blinked.
What had he been thinking about?
“You idiot! Useless fool!” Buckley screamed at him, appearing in front of Aaron, coughing with a silk handkerchief pressed to his perfectly trimmed goatee.
“Hmm?” Aaron asked.
“The girl! The girl has gone. You missed her somehow you imbecile!”
Buckley rushed out the door of his office. “He looked to the right and left.”
Aaron followed.
“No no, stop,” Buckley said. “She's gone down the back stair. You can't follow her. Just resume your spot against the wall,” Buckley grumbled his way back into the office. There, still holding the kerchief against his nose and mouth, he opened two windows to let the red smoke out. Then he went over to one of the four brass tubes arrayed on the wall and picked up the metal tapper.
No, Aaron thought, as he resumed his place against the wall, remembering his plan. It had worked, fully. He'd stopped his hand just at the right time, enough for her to escape, but he'd forgotten about Buckley's tubes.
With three quick taps, Buckley notified the attendant at the security office on the lowest floor of the building. Then he flipped open the top of the tube and spoke.
“There's a girl coming down the back stair, a technician. I want you to stop her and terminate her. Do you understand?”
A muffled voice came from the other end of the brass tube.
“Yes, the smaller stairway. She'll be there any minute, let her come down, ambush her. If she escapes my golem will come for every damned one of you and your families, do you understand me?”
A curt response.
“Good,” Buckley said and slammed the fitted brass top of the tube. He coughed twice waving his free arm to dissipate the smoke as he moved over to the window. Leaning in toward the window, Buckley tilted his head slightly.
From outside, far below, came the sound of pistol cracks. One, three, five. A muffled cry.
Silence.
They'd gotten her anyway.
Aaron stared at Buckley, watching him brush off his shirt, smiling. How he hated him.
“Sir, your next appointment... Oh!” his assistant coughed.
He rounded on her. “Get someone up here to clean out this smoke and the glass on the floor. I'll be moving to the conference room down the hall. Send my appointments there.”
“Yes sir,” she replied. “Actually the next one is already here.”
Aaron doubted Buckley even knew her name, he'd never heard him use it.
“Also,” Buckley added. “Have we word from the north?”
“We have sir, that's what I'd come to tell you. We received the bird only moments ago-”
“Well? What is it!” Buckley snapped at her.
“The general of the republican guard has driven the Ganex from Aeyrdfeld castle. They're in full retreat, though the castle has suffered significant damage and may collapse.”
Buckley waved his hand, coming away from the window, “I don't care about that stone ruin. I care about routing the strongest army on the continent.”
“Losses were described as minimal sir,” she said. “However...”
“Yes?”
“The general adds that he is concerned about this Narael character. The men call him the devil and the goliaths he leads do not obey orders or conventions of war, they attack indiscriminately.”
“Send him a reply immediately. He is to take on supplies and then pursue and destroy the enemy. Invade the Empire. They have no powder to fight and retreat, I made sure of it. Magenberg and all the resources of the vast Imperial lands will be mine...” Buckley coughed, squinting his eyes. “Strike that last part, say: 'ours'”
“Of course sir,” his assistant replied, scratching on her pad.
Buckley exited his still smoky office with Aaron behind him and almost ran into a fat red-faced man standing in the hall.
“Oh God, it's you.”
“Yes... yes sir. I see you've had a challenging day... thus far.”
Buckley sneered at the man. “How is the position treating you Guy?”